A Bunch of Hippy Dippy Balony
by The What-If Writer
Summary: AU "He'd always been positive, like is said in the book- it was the only thing he felt made sense. So it didn't make sense when he found himself in a rocky, fiery place filled with boiling lava and a giant mountain in the middle of a dark nowhere." Orphaned 8-year old Emmet finds himself in the strangest of company.
1. Chapter 1

_Wow._

_This whole idea can be summed up in THAT title. And this situation. I promised myself I'd fix up my serious, emotional fanfic of a different fandom and continue on it until it was done, but nope. I'm finishing up a random idea that I'm so tempted, so very tempted, to continue. But not now. Maybe not ever. Probably not ever. I don't have the time._

_It was a bad idea starting it then, but oh well. Here is the premise: Emmet is a little orphan who Vitruvius is convinced will be a Great Masher Builder. He's been placed by a Certain 'Sausage-Fingered' person to the Lava Chamber we saw at the start of the movie. An AU that came from a headcanon I won't talk about right now._

_But oh well, here's the little experiment piece. Let's hope I kept everyone in character. This is basically what would have happened if he'd been there at the starting scene. An introduction to an AU that may not be continued. Meh._

* * *

A Bunch of Hippy Dippy Baloney

It was against the instructions. Though, he felt as if his whole life was against the instructions. Most children had two parents; a mother and a father, perhaps a brother or sister. Or a dog. But he didn't have any of that. Not even a dog.

He'd always been positive, like it said in the book- it was the only thing he felt made sense. So it didn't make sense when he found himself in a rocky, fiery place filled with boiling lava and a giant mountain in the middle of a dark nowhere.

It didn't make sense that he met a funny old man that made things out of bricks. He like making things out of bricks- but the old man didn't quite do it right. That was okay, Emmet supposed- he was an old guy, maybe he just didn't realize. He was reminded of the old man who lived down the street of the orphanage who would forget things often, so he didn't complain when the flying birds didn't look like any real ones he'd seen in a book.

Mr Vitruvius was kind and kinda fun, but Emmet found it harder to make excuses- or, explanations for what he did. He didn't really answer his question of how the eight-year old got there, he spoke of 'Master Builders' and how he must have been placed there by 'The Man Upstairs'.

He wondered what a Master Builder was. Did he mean the boss of those men who wore yellow helmets and made buildings? Emmet was good with toys, but he wasn't...

Anyway, he was in a big cave place that he found kinda scary. Nothing looked...right. All the walls where wonky and dirty. But there were two guards at the door, like in story books. They were guarding...something.

Emmet took another moment to analyse the large box embedded in the rock. He'd been here for a few days, yet the image of the volcano's insides still appeared new to him. Vitruvius was speaking with the guards.

"...and make sure the door is extra tight." The smooth, deep voice was comforting to the child, yet Emmet still didn't really understand what was going on.

Then, Emmet decided to speak once again to the strange old man, "Mr Vitruvius, I still don't think I was placed here for a reason..."

"Weren't you he one who said that 'everything happens because it should happen' like it is in the book?" The old man's eyes where a little merry. Emmet blinked,

"Y-yeah, but...if there WAS a reason, wouldn't it...make sense by now?" Wouldn't he have understood?

"You will in time, Emmet." Vitruvius petted his head gently, his tone rather soothing despite the situation, "You will in time..."

Suddenly the hand that petted his hair stiffened. Emmet looked up to find the old man had frozen like a statue. Emmet blinked.

"Mr Vitruvius...?"

The old man turned slowly, almost as if he wasn't moving his feet at all. Emmet looked down to check, but his head whipped back up again as the man spoke.

"He is coming."

A twirl and a crunch later the old man was standing, poised like a superhero, only with more hair on his face. Emmet blinked as he poked the air with his glowing stick.

"Cover your butt."

Both Emmet and the guards nearby blinked at the old man. The bubbling of the lava was the only thing that was heard in that awkward silence.

Emmet giggled, "Cover the wha-?"

A horrible fear gripped him when he heard thunder- and he found his legs moving on their own, behind some rocks. He could hear the screams of the guards- and he realized it wasn't thunder, it was the big doors at the end of the hall that had opened. Emmet peered over the side of the rock, gripping the warmed stone in his little hands. He didn't care if it was uneven and lumpy, he had to hide from whatever was-

Something stepped through the dust. Terror gripped his little form and Emmet began to tremble as a rumbling laugh rippled through the air.

A face appeared, on top of tall legs, a helmet of fire, a long, red cape. He was so tall, so big- Emmet could only stare in horror and be thankful those eyes weren't on him.

He was almost shocked to hear a human voice come from this giant. "Vitruvius!"

"Lord Business..." The merry, rumbling voice of the aged man had lowered to the rusty growl of a fighter. Emmet suddenly had a spark of relief.

Though really, he had no idea what was goin-

"You've hidden the Kragle WELL, old man..." The man on the tall legs drawled, and the stomps of his large feet only drew closer. For a split second he turned to look at the entrance, and in that split second Vitruvius looked at Emmet.

The child was jolted out of his dream-like state. He suddenly realized he wasn't watching some kind of scary movie. That big man was here, just a little away. He began tearing up- but then the older man gestured for him to hide lower.

"Robots! _Destroy him!"_

_"_Yes Lord Bus-iness!"

Emmet complied, curling down away from his sight as much as possible. He screwed his eyes shut.

All he heard next was the howl of pain from the deep-voice man who had been so reassuring. Emmet began sobbing gently. The bad men had gotten him, and now they'd get him, too.

"The Kragle...The most powerful SUPER weapon..." Emmet dared to peer around the rock.

Blink. Vitruvius on the floor. Blink- the tall man staring into a light, blazing from the metal box below him.

"Ah, the KRAGLE!" The man boomed in a giddy manner. Emmet stared at the robed man lying on the ground just a little away from him.

The bellowing, evil laugh- just like the one from cartoons- brought Emmet's attention back to the tall man almost forcefully.

"Now my evil power will be unlimited! _Can you feel me?!_"

"I can feel you..."

Emmet felt like he wanted to go home and hide under the bed. He watched the robots, and the tall man, begin to march away. Slowly, relief began spreading. He was going away. He'd be gone.

He began tip-toeing over to Vitruvius, a small, light feeling of relief making him a little shaky. They'd sneak away, nice and slow...

He stepped on a rock. It scuttled down into the lava with a 'plop'.

He was back behind that rock in seconds.

But the stomps of the leaving footsteps had stopped, and a horrible silence filled the chamber. Emmet curled behind the rock, praying. But the stomps began getting closer.

And closer.

And even closer.

"What's this, more of your little 'Master Builder' goody cupcake friends of yours, Vitruvius?" The man said, clearly unimpressed, "We-heh-ell, I know exactly what they need..."

The weakened protest of the older man landed on deaf ears. Emmet recoiled as the rock behind him was shattered like it was made of polystyrene. He stumbled onto his feet; his ankles balancing dangerously on the edge near the boiling abyss below.

He held his hands in front of him; shaky little whimpers making up his breath as the dust of the broken rock cleared. He saw the narrow, glinted eyes of the Tall Man stare down through it at him, and he watched as they widened in actual surprise.

_"...What?" _The gears slowly turned in his head and he gave a forced laugh, "Ho-ho, is this some kind of little pupil or something? An _apprenticeship,_ Vitruvius?" He turned slightly to grin mockingly at the injured old man struggling onto his feet nearby.

"Leave him be, Lord Business. You shall not touch him." His poor, blank eyes narrowed. Emmet felt his stomach churn at the sight, his hands over his mouth as he shook.

Lord Business gave a boisterous laugh, "Like I'm gonna believe that..._so._" He turned back to Emmet, his face shrouded by shadows as he stood with his back against the light of the lava, "Whaddawe have here? A Little Master Builder who thinks he can _mess with my stuff."_

"No...!" Emmet managed to squeak in a tiny voice, turning slightly so he no longer had his back to the edge, but moving to the left, away in stumbling steps. Lord Business leered closer, his much larger steps easily catching up with him, and getting closer.

"Leave him!" Vitruvius called, his voice tinted with a rare fury as Lord Business's height decreased, almost out of pure will, so his arm could reach down and pluck the child off the ground. Emmet had finally lost it; turning to break into a run- only to give a squeal as he was suddenly pulled from the ground, legs wriggling in the air.

"Do you know what we _do _with Little Master Builders?" The tone was like the teacher's: higher at the end, questioning, almost encouraging and friendly- but something else, something Emmet had never heard before was behind it. He didn't know what, but the words sounded bad, bad, bad. The light smile on the man's face twisted suddenly into a scowl and he swooped to his tallest height, hoisting Emmet over the side, over the hot lava.

Emmet could only shriek, covering his face, confused and afraid. His heart was thudding horribly.

"Well, I for one like to pick them up and _throw _them into a _fiery, boiling pit..._" He jostled his tiny captive just enough to send waves of terror all over Emmet's simple mind, "_Just like this one."_

_"Nooo!"_

Now it was a mixture of a snarl and a grin on his face; lined expression terrifying and threatening. Emmet cowered away the best he could, arms curled into his body to protect himself, shoulders hunched and eyes barely open as he cried, "N-no, I don' wanna mess up y-your stuff..."

The glinting eyes of the Tall Man bore right into his soul. Then, they lightened as suddenly as they darkened and he smiled almost cheerfully, "Aw, he's kinda cute once you get to know him..." But then his brow twitched down back into the malicious grin as turned back to Vitruvius below, "I think I'll _keep _him...see what his little Master-Building mind knows..."

"Release him or suffer the Consequence of Imagination!" Vitruvius proclaimed from below.

There was a pause. Lord Business rose one side of his brow. "...Seriously? Consequences of Imagination? You- you do now how corny that sounds right? And shouldn't it be the Consequences of NO Imagination...?"

Suddenly the hand holding Emmet, confused and afraid as ever, was bitten by one of the birds Vitruvius had made. Emmet squealed as he fell, arms out and mouth open wide- until the same birds caught him and swooped over the side. As they did, the old man caught onto their feet and the flock swept over the lava fields.

Emmet dared to open his eyes and look back, head spinning- and see Lord Business's furious snarl watching them go.

"We'll be back..." Vitruvius said slowly, his deep voice certain. Emmet gulped, holding onto the birds that carried them.

He hoped not.

* * *

_In conclusion: Emmet has no idea what is going on, nor do the readers._


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh. Um. Ahem, hi there. Me. Posted this...ages ago, part of a headcanon that I didn't explain. I really, really, really wasn't going to continue, and I have NO IDEA if I'll be able to update after this. But I recently re-watched Lego Movie and I got an idea for this chapter. I apologise for not committing to this when I started it. I have other things to get on with, long-term, and soon I'll be going to Uni. Again, sorry. _

_I just hope you enjoy this little piece randomness._

* * *

_You know I don't drink that stuff._

"But De-caff is so much better for you..."

_Yes, and It also means we'd both be falling asleep over the paperwork again, and it tastes like cardboard. I don't understand you sometimes._

The policeman blew gently on the coffee, watching the liquid ripple and the smelt scent rise into the air. It was a peaceful day. The sun was shining, bustle was taking up the streets like a counter melody, and he was on a coffee break. Well. _They _were on a coffee break. His bad side had insisted on a triple, but there was really no need for that. Humming happily to himself, the specs wearing cop wandered outside the ship, the door letting out a little 'ding' as he went. Cars passed, people raised their arms to each other in welcome waves, it was a good day.

_You're going to jinx it, aren't you?_

"Mornin', Mornin' ... no idea what you mean." He responded, cheerily, though deep down he hoped his counterpart wasn't right.

"I don't understand what you're so edgy today, its –"

Something bumped into his leg from behind. His Bad Side went nuts.

_Kill it._

He whipped around, his head threatening to do the same and found...no one. This side of the street was getting pretty sparse, actually, after a moment. He was about to turn away again, blinking when his eyes happened to slid down a centime and –

Oh!

A little boy had run into his leg, and was staring around in bewilderment, as if the impact had thrown him into a ditz. Good Cop laughed, briefly, feeling silly for overreacting. "Hi there, Buddy. How're you?"

The child spun around, as if only noticing him then. He beamed up at him, "Hiya! Imma Emmet."

And just like that, his heart melted. Well, half of it did. Bad Cop groaned loudly in the back of his head, _Oh great._

"Are you a police-man?" The boy chimed, practically hopping with the word. Good Cop laughed,

"Yes I am. Are you a Ninja?"

"Me?" The boy blinked, "No!"

"You snuck up on me pretty good there." He said, leaning down a little so he was more at eye-level. He'd noticed the boy was peering around the street, happy but inquisitive, as if he were looking for something. "Where are your parents?"

Something...empty flashed over the boy's face for a moment. "Umm...I don't think I'm meant to talk about that." He gave a little gasp, claw hands rising to cover his mouth. "Oops."

Bad Cop was beginning to mutter.

_Weird._

"So who are you with then...?" Good Cop scanned the area once more, and again, found no one, "You shouldn't be out on your own."

Daylight could be misleading. Children, especially one as...cheery as this, could go missing at any time. The boy had wandered off a bit, passing a bunch of flowers neatly positioned in pots,

"Hello, benches, hello, Flowerpot –"

"Hang on..." He said, gently, going after him and catching him by the hand as firmly as possible. Which wasn't much, "I think we should go to the station, Buddy, I wouldn't feel right leaving you by yourself."

"I'm not on my own!" Said Emmet, still half-preoccupied with the flowers.

Bad Cop's voice was so loud in their mind that for a second Good Cop was afraid he'd actually said it. _Then who are you with?_

"Who are you with, then? Aunt? Grandparents...? School trip?" Wasn't this a Tuesday? This didn't seem like the kind of kid to play hooky.

"Hello, sidewalk." Emmet sang, skipping across the street. At the green light, thank goodness. Good Cop went after him.

"Wait!" Emmet looked behind him as he walk, completely undeterred, but he didn't seem unhappy that he was being followed,

"What is it, Mr Policeman?"

"You forgot my question." The officer in question laughed, a little awkwardly, coming to walk beside him on the other side of the street. Emmet, to his great surprise, took hold of his hand, humming happily. Good Cop felt a pang in his chest. Completely trusting. He WAS a police officer, but still, if he hadn't found him...

"I was with umm..." Emmet was thinking. Hard. Good Cop turned his head, watching, hoping that what he'd say was the truth.

_Kid's gonna lie, I've seen that look before. Diverted gaze. Looking at other things, stalling. He's trying to come up with some bogus story._

_I don't think it's anything bad, _Good Cop was still holding his hand, so he began slowly diverting them in the direction of the station. It wasn't far. They'd get to the bottom of this over there with some calls, he was sure...

Then, his walkie-talkie buzzed. Emmet saw it and his face burst into a smile, "Oooh, walkie talkie!" Good Cop chuckled, petted his head, and stopped for a moment.

"Just going to take a call, Emmet, you stay there, all right?" He turned away a tad and answered –

"Bad Cop, Good Cop," A shrill, robotic voice sounded from the device, "President Business has requested you in his office!"

_Drop off the kid on the way. An excuse to be rid of him, at least._

Good Cop swallowed. No need to be so dismissive. "We'll be right there!" He quipped, before signing out. Strange. Lord Business never sent for him at this time of day, it was always at night when it was dark and more dramatic.

He turned around to speak to Emmet – and found the little boy was gone. Panic swelled in his chest. Usually their reflexes were unmatched, no one could sneak up – or sneak away – from them usually. How -?

He saw a little blur going around the corner. Bad Cop scoffed,

_Little sneak made a run for it. Knew he was bad news._

Good Cop decided not to reply to that. He jogged around the corner, and found the street was empty. Coffee break was over for most people, work ours synchronised a lot during this time of weekday.

_I'll scan the area, I'm faster._

With a click, Bad Cop assumed the stage, glaring daggers into the scene before them. Buckets, no, doors, all closed, cars, none moved, plant pots –

Plant pots with a speck of messy brown hair. Aha.

Good Cop swung back into view and moved over, slowly, with a rather disappointed look on his face. "Emmet?"

Slowly, the little boy appeared, standing up behind the bunch of pots. He was biting his lip, staring at his feet. "Um..."

"You can't run off like that. I promise, you weren't in trouble..." Good Cop gently took his hand and led him out of the bunch of pots, "Besides, you can't hide in people's doorways."

_What on earth made him bolt like that?_

_We were distracted, dummy._

But Emmet was staring at his walkie-talkie as they resumed their walk to the station. Correction, pretending he wasn't staring but sneaking a wary glance. Good Cop quirked a brow,

"What is it...?"

"...Nothing."

_Little liar._

"You can tell me, Emmet. No one else is listening." Good Cop murmured, after a while. Emmet sighed, wistfully, a true one-eighty from his previous mood.

"I dunno, Mr Police-Man, weird stuff has been going on and I dunno what..." He trailed off. He looked at him, suddenly, "Why is he called President Business?"

_...Hmm._

Good Cop didn't catch on to whatever his counterpart was thinking. He hummed thoughtfully to himself, "Well, he's in charge of business, really. All business. Guess he likes to embodiment the term."

"...Do you think he's...scary?"

Good Cop felt something stir in his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite pinpoint. "...What makes you say that, Buddy?"

Emmet turned to stare ahead as they walk, little hand gripping his the tighter. "Hmm."

_Most people adore Business's image. Something isn't right here. Weird kid, in the middle of the street, totally unafraid?_

Good Cop wouldn't say 'totally' but still...

"Emmet!"

A deep, husky, but rather panicked voice rang out behind them. Good Cop and the child turned.

Now here was something you did not see occurring every day. There was a wizard. Thing. An old man in robes at any rate, with pupil-less eyes signalling that he was utterly blind, a staff, a beard, the whole thing. Completely and utterly out of place and judging by the description it had to be –

"Vitruvius?"

"Yaaay!" Emmet sang, "Found you!"

"Emmet, I told you, we weren't here to play hide and seek." The Old Man said, half-cheerily, half seriously, still striking a 'battle pose'.

_A Master Builder. I KNEW something was off about this situation! _

A click.

Emmet turned his head, smiling, about to tell Good Cop that this was his friend, Vitruvius, though he made no sense and was kinda silly, he was still fun to be around and –

But He wasn't there.

There was a different man looking down at him, lines around his lips, a scowl shrouding his sunglasses.

Emmet's smile faltered, "Mr Policeman?"

"Sorry, sonny. Nothing personal."

He lunged, aiming a punch right at the old man's face. Impressively, he blocked it, bringing up that weird staff of his to intercept the blow.

"Emmet, get to the car!"

"What car?" The boy squeaked.

"The invisible one!"

A pair of taillights blinked hovering seemingly in mid-air. Bad Cop scowled. Oh no, that wasn't gonna fly!

He whipped out his gun, aiming it straight for the old man's bearded face, ignoring the boy's horrified yelp –

Several birds attacked him from every angle. No, Bad Cop wouldn't exaggerate about such a thing. With a grunt he kicked two aside, flipping over to crush a third. They fell apart; just bricks, concoctions made by that Master Builder to throw him off.

The boy was standing on the road, prodding thin air...or rather, something disguised as thin air. "Mr Vitruvius, I can't find the door!"

"A little to the left, Emmet." The old man chimed, swinging his spear towards the cop with a theatrical twirl. The policeman caught the spear in his hand and twisted it, aiming a kick at the Master Builder's chest. He skidded back, bricks from the sidewalk beneath them springing up. Acting on impulse, the staff spun again, and a dozen more birds clicked into shape. Bad Cop's scowl deepened.

"Hmm."

"Why are you fighting?"

Good Cop clicked in for a split second, looking over at Emmet. To his surprise he found the child was sitting in a car that certainly hadn't been there before. In fact, it was familiar, long, black, with darkened windows –

The Batmobile was sitting in the middle of Bricksberg, on a sunny day. He could see the top of the boy's head peering uncertainly over the bottom of the window. "S' all right, Emmet, stay right there!"

Bad Cop spun back into view, "Or you could get out and come quietly. Either way, it won't save wither of you."

Without even looking, his fist lashed out, breaking apart one of the magical birds in a flawless hit. Emmet jumped, going stiff, and didn't reply. "...!"

"You really hate animals, don't you?" Vitruvius remarked, coming to a standstill some meters away. The Cop and the Master Building started circling each other. Bad Cop kicked a piece of the fall bird – now just a brick – out of his way.

"Just be glad it wasn't you, old man."

The wizard jabbed the staff directly into his chest, insisting a loud, dog-like growl from the Irishman.

"If you do not let us go in piece, I shall be forced to unleash the Consequences Of Imagination!"

Emmet's little voice came warbling out of the car.

"Consequences of No Imagination, Mr Vitruvius."

The old man paused, for a moment, then sighed. "Emmet."

Bad Cop kicked the staff aside, aiming to hit him over the head with this park bench he'd just seized, but the elder man was craftier than that. He flipped back, blocking the block mid-summersault with the remains of the sidewalk floor. "Ha-ha!"

"Why's the boy so important that a big-shot Master Building like you would be so interested?" Bad Cop remarked, holding back not an ounce of scorn. Vitruvius's empty eyes narrowed.

"Can't imagine what you mean. Pay attention, Two-Face – I am about to unveil the Consequences of No Imagination!"

Bad Cop prepared himself, fists up, teeth barred.

The old man jumped, pointing his staff, "NOW, Batman!"

Good Cop yelped inside their head, Oh no –

Bad Guy spun on his heel, ready to parry whatever bat-themed weapon was to be thrown his way...but nothing happened. He stared, confused and angry, for a few moments, before the screech of bat-emplated ties made his head veer.

The car was speeding down the street, leaving the bamboozled (and completely enraged) cop behind.

The flower pots sitting nearby were crushed by his fists_. "Urgh."_

Emmet, with his seatbelt strapped and his legs swinging, looked up at Vitruvius inquisitively. The car was on auto-pilot, it seemed. "Sooo...the consequences of no imagination is...nothing?"

"Exactly, Emmet..." The old man said, beaming mystically, "Exactly..."

The car swooped around the corner.


End file.
